Happy New Year
by shelivesfree
Summary: January 1 2030: just little snippets about what some of your favourite characters were doing on this day.


_**A/N: Just little snippets of a New Years celebration from some of my favourite characters.**_

* * *

 **January 1 2030**

 _5:43pm_

"Oi, Lupin! Drinks at the Cauldron tonight, mate. You up for it?"

Teddy turned his head at the sound of his best mate's voice and made a face. "Can't," he groaned. "Vic's having a night out so I've gotta look after the girls."

Sam shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes at Teddy. "Come on, mate. It's New Year's Eve! You can't be home babysitting!"

Teddy snorted. "It's not babysitting when they're my own kids, mate. Besides, isn't Rachel going out with Vic anyway? Who's going to look after Luke if you go out with the boys?"

At this, Sam blanched and rubbed the back of his head. Teddy laughed and scooped a pile of paperwork over to one side of the desk, along with a clutter of quills and empty ink bottles. In the other corner was a picture of him, Victoire, Violet and Isabelle for Violet's fourth birthday the previous year. Isabelle had cake smeared all over her face and Violet's hair was a bright, vibrant pink.

"Well," Sam began sheepishly, casting a sly glance at Teddy. "I was thinking if you drop Vi and Issy off at the in-laws, I could bring the little tyke along too?"

Teddy sighed at his best friend and pondered the thought for a moment. "Fine, I'll take them around to Bill and Fleur's and ask if they'll look after Luke too."

Sam grinned and slapped Teddy on the back appreciatively. "Thanks mate, you're a champ!"

Teddy laughed and followed Sam out of the office.

* * *

 _6:15pm_

Lily lay sprawled on the couch in front of the fire, her feet resting in her fiancé's lap as she sipped a steaming mug of camomile tea. Lysander rubbed her feet gently, easing out the soreness that resulted from walking about the house while eight months pregnant. Her mother fussed about her, constantly asking if she was comfortable and if she wanted anything to eat. If Lily hadn't been so tired, she would have told Ginny to bugger off, but she was too exhausted to do anything by sigh and sip her tea. Her parents had never approved of her early pregnancy; she was only eighteen, but they had no choice but to lend her a helping hand. She was their only daughter after all.

"Mmm," she groaned as Lysander rubbed his long, tan fingers over the ball of her foot. "Seriously Ly, you should think about becoming a masseuse."

Lysander chuckled and continued to work his magic on his exhausted, young wife. "Nah," he said, smirking at her. "I don't think I could handle massaging old women feet."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Hey, don't think that you'll be getting out of foot massages when I'm seventy and decrepit," she warned him, resting her mug on top of her large, bursting stomach.

He made a face at her. "I didn't sign up for that!" he joked.

"You damn well did when you asked me to marry you, you prat," she reminded him firmly. Lysander smirked and reached over to plant a sweet kiss on her lips. "I'm sorry I made you stay home with me on New Year's Eve," she apologised sheepishly. "I know you'd rather be out with your mates."

"No way," Lysander chortled. "Giving foot massages to my cranky pregnant fiancé is much more fun."

Lily knew he was only joking, but she couldn't help but hear the truth behind his sarcasm. "I'm being serious, Ly."

He cupped her cheek and forced her to look at him, his light blue eyes completely solemn. "And _I'm_ being serious, Lil," he told her. "I'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world."

A blush crept onto Lily's freckled cheeks, as it always did when Lysander caught her off guard with his sincerity. It wasn't empty words; Lily knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn't be anywhere else but by her side. She felt tears well in her eyes – partially due to her hormones, but covered her emotion with humour.

"Well then," she remarked defiantly, wiggling a foot in his face. "Get rubbing."

Lysander smirked and continued his ministrations, causing Lily's eyes to flutter closed in contentment.

* * *

 _7:39pm_

The noise and ruckus from inside the Three Broomsticks could be heard from the Shrieking Shack as it wafted down the streets of Hogsmeade. Neville and Hannah gripped each other's hands as they made their way through the thick sleet into the warmth of the pub; as was their New Year's tradition. There, behind the bar, was their eighteen-year-old daughter, flicking her blonde bangs and flirting with three young men. Hannah smirked at her husband as the two of them approached her.

"Hard at work, Hazel," Hannah remarked, her voice lit with laughter.

The young men cast awkward glances at each other and silently moved away from the bar as Hazel glared at her parents.

"Thanks, Mum," she groaned, tying her hair back into a ponytail. "You just got rid of three worthy customers!"

Hannah chuckled and sat down at the bar, Neville joining her.

"Oh, Hazel, you're only put out because we robbed you of a date... or three."

Neville laughed at his daughter's dark expression. "Two Butterbeers please, honey," he said cheerfully, enjoying the show between his wife and his daughter.

Hazel began to fill up two large jugs. "It's New Year's Eve, the biggest party night of the year, and I have to work!" she grumbled and handed over the steaming jugs of Butterbeer. "I'm entitled to some fun!"

"Thank you, dear," Hannah said, taking a large gulp of Butterbeer and grinning cheekily at her daughter. "And don't complain. You're getting paid double time to do this. Think about the apartment you want to save up for."

"I know," Hazel sighed. She began to wipe down the bench and flung the rag over her shoulder. "It's just horribly unfair, that's all."

Neville downed his Butterbeer in three gulps and readily ordered another. "Do you know what your brother and sisters are doing tonight?" he asked.

"Having more fun than me," she grumbled.

An old woman with grey hair poked her head out from the back room and put her hands on her hips. "Longbottom! Stop socialising and start serving tables!" she barked crossly.

"Right away, ma'am," Hazel said, rolling her eyes when her boss wasn't looking. "Bloody cow," she muttered under her breath.

"I see Rosmerta's in a cheery mood," Neville remarked with a smirk, sipping his Butterbeer.

Hazel glowered and tied her apron around her waist. "Hmm, I'd better get back to work. I'll talk to you later."

She went to serve some customers at the back of the pub, leaving Neville and Hannah by themselves. Neville smiled and kissed his wife's cheek gently.

"Happy New Year's, love," he said. She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand.

* * *

 _8:10pm_

"Please, Luce!" Molly pleaded, batting her brown eyes at her older sister. "Come out with us!"

Lucy frowned and bounced her one-year-old daughter on her hip. "I can't," she said sternly. "I can't leave Eloise."

Molly dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "So? Leave her with mum and dad. Or Uncle Bill. I heard Teddy's left Violet and Isabelle with them for the night."

Lucy narrowed her sharp, blue eyes, toying with the thought in her mind. "I don't know, Moll, I don't want to be a nuisance..."

Molly scoffed and shook her red haired head. "Don't be silly. Uncle Bill loves the kids! And it's only for a night. Please!"

It was difficult for even the responsible, serious Lucy Weasley to resist the pleading eyes of her younger sister. Even at the age of 24, she was able persuade everyone to do what she wanted with just a look from her baby brown eyes, something she had perfected since she was a toddler.

"Fine," Lucy sighed, smirking a little. "I'll send Uncle Bill a patronus and see if he wouldn't mind looking after Ellie for tonight."

Molly beamed and clapped her hands together like a little girl. "Bring Andrew too," she told her. "I'll tell David you're coming."

Lucy shook her head at Molly, chuckling inwardly. "Where exactly are we going, anyway?" she asked suspiciously.

"The Dancing Dragon," Molly cried excitedly. "It's a new nightclub that's opened up in London."

"A nightclub?" Lucy raised her eyebrows warily. "Aren't I a little _old_ to be going to a nightclub?"

Molly burst out in laughter. "Nonsense! You're only 27. Anyway, meet us outside The Dancing Dragon at 9pm." Molly bounded out of her sister's apartment like an excited puppy. "And wear something dressy!" she called behind her.

Lucy smirked and shook her head. "I swear, your Aunt is crazy," she told Eloise, who blinked at her with vacant, green eyes. "I guess that's why we love her so much."

* * *

 _10:05pm_

Ron emerged from the cupboard with an old, dusty bottle of Firewhiskey in his hands. Hermione laughed at his proud expression and retrieved two, large, wine glasses. With a flourish of his wand, the bottle opened and poured the thin, golden liquid into the glasses.

"How long has this been in there?" Hermione asked tentatively as she took a glass. Ron downed his in one large gulp and read the label on the bottle.

"Made in 2007," he declared proudly, making Hermione eye her Firewhiskey warily.

"Honey, it's 23 years old," she told him as he swallowed his second glass.

Ron merely shrugged. "So? It's had plenty of time to mature!" Still not convinced, Hermione pushed her glass away. "Are you going to drink that?" he asked sheepishly.

Hermione laughed. "Take it," she told him and went to make a cup of tea. "You know, at your age, you really shouldn't drink so much."

"What do you mean? I'm as healthy as a hippogriff!" he puffed out his chest and smirked at his wife, making her roll her eyes. "Come on, 'Mione, lighten up. It's New Year's."

She nodded. "Exactly. Which means it's time to start making New Year's resolutions. Yours should be to cut down the whiskey to once a week."

Ron gaped at her incredulously, as though the thought of only drinking once a week was horrifying.

"How about my resolution is to have more sex?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her. Hermione threw him a stern glare and he frowned, fingering the rim of his glass. "Fine, whiskey once a week. What's _your_ resolution?"

"To keep work commitments to a minimum and go for more vacations," she said in a dignified voice.

Ron poured the last few drops of Firewhiskey into his glass and drank it down quickly. "A vacation sounds nice," he agreed. "How about we go away next month?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not yet, Ron," she said. "I want to be here when the baby arrives."

"Rosie's still got another five months to go," Ron reasoned.

But Hermione remained firm. "No, she needs us. Once the baby's born, then we can go on a holiday. Okay?"

Ron nodded. "Okay." He stood up and began to search through the cupboard again. "Do you know if we still have that elf-made wine dad gave us last year?" he asked.

Hermione frowned. "What happened to your resolution?"

Ron whipped his head around and gave his wife a wicked grin. "It's not the New Year yet. I might as well indulge while I can!"

* * *

 _10:52pm_

Fleur couldn't help but smile as she sat on the couch in her husband's arms, watching her little grandchildren and her great-niece running about the house. It had been a long time since young children had lived in Shell Cottage and Fleur enjoyed the joy they brought. It made her feel young again, instead of the 53 years she actually was.

"Look, grandmère," Violet cried excitedly. "I can change my nose now!" She screwed up her eyes and with a faint _pop_ , her nose changed from a small button to a long, crooked nose that look hilariously out of place among her young features.

Fleur laughed silkily and praised her oldest granddaughter. Violet had inherited her father's Metamorphamagus gift and enjoyed showcasing her new talents.

"Zat iz wonderful, Violet," she said, smiling at her. Violet giggled and her hair turned bright pink.

Eloise crawled up to her and raised her chubby arms silently, asking to be picked up. Fleur obliged and cradled her niece's daughter in her arms. Bill reached over and tugged on the three pigtails that Isabelle had done not long before. Eloise giggled happily and squirmed about in Fleur's lap.

"I wonder what Dom is doing right now," Bill mused, running his wife's silky hair through his fingers.

"She will probably be asleep," Fleur said thoughtfully. "Little Madeleine would be a 'andful, I zink."

Bill nodded. "I wish we could see her more often.

"Me too, Guillaume. But she iz 'appy in Paris."

"I know," Bill sighed. "I just miss her."

Fleur rested her hand on his thigh and squeezed it gently. "We will see 'er at Christmas."

"Hmm," Bill mumbled. "Perhaps we could spare her a short visit this year."

Fleur smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "Zat sounds parfait, Guillaume."

* * *

 _11:59pm_

A small, sandy haired boy stumbled into the living room and rubbed his eyes sleepily with one hand, clutching a ragged teddy bear in the other. His mother and father were enjoying a glass of wine out on the balcony, completely oblivious to their oldest son's presence, until he tugged on his mother's dressing gown. She glanced down and frowned at her son.

"Michael! What are you doing up?" she asked crossly. "It's passed your bedtime."

Little Michael look up at his mother with round, pleading blue eyes and stuck out his lip. "But Mummy," he protested. "I want to see the fireworks."

She looked across at her husband, who shrugged his shoulders. "Let him stay up, Charlotte" he told her. "It's New Year's Eve."

With a sigh, she picked up her young son and sat him in her lap, as they gazed over the balcony at the glittering city lights. Michael grinned at his father, who reached over and ruffled his messy hair.

"Sit tight, squirt," he said. "I'll go and get your brother."

"Lou..." Charlotte gave him a disapproving look which he dismissed with a wave of his hand. He returned moments later with another sandy haired boy resting on his hip. The boy had his thumb stuck between his little, pink lips and rested his head against Louis' shoulder.

"Look, Christian," Louis said as he sat down. "The fireworks are about to start!"

The young boys' faces lit up as the red, yellow and green sparks burst across the black sky. Michael dropped his teddy as he clapped his hands together. They shrilled in delight and Charlotte smiled across at Louis. He winked at her and leant over to kiss her sweetly.

"Happy New Year's, honey," he said fondly before planting a kiss on Christian's hair.

"It's going to be a good one," Charlotte agreed happily, kissing Michael on his rosy cheeks.

* * *

 _12:21am_

Albus and Scorpius crashed their mugs of Firewhiskey together, roaring with laughter. Rose rolled her eyes at her husband and cousin and sat down next to poor Saoirse Finnigan, who was looking a little mortified by her fiancé's behaviour.

"I love you, man!" Scorpius bellowed, throwing his arm around his best mate's shoulder and slapping him on the back, causing Al to spill Firewhiskey all down the front of his shirt.

"That was a new shirt, too," Saoirse grumbled, shaking her head. Rose laughed and patted her hand affectionately.

"Don't worry," she assured her, "it'll come out."

"Hey, Saoirse!" Scorpius cried happily. "Your fiancé is one sexy beast, do you know that?"

Al winked at her and she winked back, chuckling slightly. "I sure do, Scorp," she smirked. "Is he always like this?" she added in Rose' ear.

Rose grinned. "Always. Firewhiskey brings out his inner gay man," she laughed, winking at her husband.

"Well then," Saoirse giggled. "I guess I have some competition." She stood up and approached her fiancé, slinking her arms around his waist. "Care for a dance, Al?" she purred. Al grinned enthusiastically and swept Saoirse into the crowd of dancing drunks. Scorpius sat down next to Rose and kissed her sloppily. His breath reeked of alcohol but she didn't mind. His grey eyes stared adoringly into her own blue ones and he gave her a dopey smile.

"You're beautiful," he told her.

She blushed deeply and rolled her eyes at her husband. "And you're drunk," she told him.

He grinned at her waggled his fair eyebrows. "But I'm a sexy drunk, aren't I?"

Rose barked a laugh and pretended to be deep in thought. "Hmm, perhaps."

Scorpius leant in to kiss her again. "I love you, Rose," he said tenderly. His hands travelled down her body to rest on her stomach. "And I can't wait for this little one to arrive."

She caught his hands and squeezed them gently. "Me either."

* * *

 _1:17am_

It was probably the most terrifying moment of his life. All around him, the occupants of the dodgy, Romanian pub had stopped their celebrations and were focussed on the young couple in the centre of the floor. James stared up into the beautiful dark eyes of his Russian girlfriend, Irina Krum, from his one-legged stance and held out the glittering diamond ring. She was frozen in shock, her cropped, black hair flecked with snow and her tan skin glowing in the yellow, candlelight of the pub.

"James..." she gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Marry me?" he asked thickly.

"Konechno!" she cried in Russian and lurched forward, kissing him hard on the mouth. "Da!"

James wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately, not caring that there were thousands of strangers watching him. All that mattered was the beautiful woman in his arms. They pulled back and pressed their foreheads together, breathing deeply and not taking their eyes off each other.

"So, I take it that's a yes?" James smirked.

Irina rolled her eyes and laughed huskily. "Yes, you idiot! Of course I vill marry you."

James grinned and the entire crowd cheered and raised their beer glasses. The couple laughed happily and stood up, to be showered in congratulations by complete strangers. James slid the ring onto her slender, tan finger and kissed her again, much to the excitement of the crowd. Someone had shouted both of them beers and they clinked their glasses together. James knew that this year was going to be the best ever.

* * *

 _3:10am_

Emily struggled under her husband's weight as she helped him walk back home to their apartment. Personally, she thought that Fred was too old to be that drunk, but she kept the opinion to herself, figuring that the best punishment would be the killer hangover he would get later in the day. He trudged along, supported by his wife's arms and was laughing at nothing in particular.

"You know what, Em?" he asked loudly, causing her to shush him. "You're the prettiest girl in the world!"

"Glad you think so, honey," she said with a sigh. "Come on, let's get you inside." They had reached the front of their little house but Fred stood firm. She frowned at him but he didn't seem to notice.

"I want everyone to know that I married the prettiest girl in the whole world!" he shouted into the night, beaming at her. Before she could tell him off for being so noisy, he seized her up in his arms and kissed her hard. Even though she knew he was extremely drunk, and despite that he smelt horribly of alcohol, she couldn't help but melt into the kiss. A few stragglers wolf-whistled as they staggered past and Emily immediately felt embarrassed and pushed Fred off her.

"Fred," she scolded. "Don't... not in public."

He pouted at her like their son, Joey often did when he wasn't allowed to eat sweets and Emily couldn't help but laugh.

"Later," she told him, forcing him inside their house. "When you're not off your face."

His dark eyes filled with hope and he grinned cheekily at her. "Later?" he asked.

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Later," she assured him.

She eventually managed to get him out of his clothes and into bed, where he immediately crashed and began to snore loudly. Emily regarded him fondly and climbed in next to him, twirling her fingers through his dark, curly hair. Her husband was such a child, and yet she loved him more for it. Pressing her lips to the dark skin of his neck, she encircled her arms around him and pressed herself against his back. His hands found hers and their fingers intertwined, making Emily smile as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

 _6:25am_

The sun peered through the gap in the curtains and shone across Hugo's eyes. Groaning, he rolled over to his side and smiled at the vision next to him. Leo was sprawled on his back, his bare chest rising and falling with his deep slumber. Propping himself up on his elbow, Hugo ran his finger lazily up and down the chocolate skin of his boyfriend's chest. At his touch, Leo opened his dark eyes and gave his lover a sleepy smile.

"Morning," he yawned, reaching up to run his hand through Hugo's unruly brown curls.

"Happy New Year," Hugo whispered, leaning down to kiss him lightly.

"I can't believe we fell asleep so early," Leo chuckled. "We were supposed to stay up for the fireworks."

Hugo winked at him. "I guess we were just busy doing other things."

Grinning, Leo stretched out his long limbs and put his arms behind his head. "Can we just stay in bed all day?" he asked. "I don't feel like doing anything."

Kissing him once more, Hugo lay down beside his lover and snuggled under the blankets. "Sounds pretty good to me," he conceded.

* * *

 _7:05am_

"Good morning, Mollywobbles."

Molly opened her eyes to the smell of warm tea, and beamed at her husband. Arthur was standing in the doorway in his dressing gown and slippers, carrying two steaming mugs of tea in his hands and the _Daily Prophet_ under his arm.

"Happy New Year, dear," she said sweetly, patting the bed to beckon him to join her. He handed her a mug of tea and sat next to her atop the duvet, crossing his ankles and began to read the newspaper. Molly sat up too, leaning back against the bedhead and sipped her tea, loving the way it warmed her.

"Do you remember our first New Years, Arthur?" she asked as she stared at her husband. Putting down the newspaper, he turned to her and took her hands.

"Of course," he smiled. "It was the day I realised that I wanted to spend every year with you for the rest of my life. And I asked you to marry me."

Tears welled in Molly's eyes and she rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles. "And it was the happiest day of my life."

Curling into his side, Molly sighed. "Who would have thought we'd be here, almost 60 years later, still as happy as we were when we were nineteen?"

Arthur wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I never doubted us," he said confidently.

Molly sniffed and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Arthur Weasley."

"I love you, Molly Weasley."

* * *

 **A/N: I found this really cute to write. I know not everyone is in there, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway :) xx**


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